That woman
by Lyllas
Summary: Because some things never change. Because Haymitch is alone. Because he and Katniss have a special kind of relationship. Post Mockingjay. His view before the kids, during the pregnancy and during the kids. What are his thoughts? Rated T for Haymitchness.
1. Alone

**Because Haymitch stays the same after a these years. And because he grows old. And because we all love him. Rated T for some language and content (:**

**Suzanne Collins owns it. I love it. And write about it.**

**Please enjoy. (: **

That _woman_.

I guess we can say she's a woman now, with her twenty five years of age. But we still hate each other. That, that has not changed. It cannot be changed. It's some kind of sick and twisted hate where love can be found. Because, why not say it? We love each other as well. That will never change. Some kind of sick and twisted love where hate can be found.

We cannot stand each other. That is something we cannot do. Whether I am drunk or not. The 'not' doesn't happen often, I'll admit. But still. When I look in her grey eyes, emotions conflict. But when I look in her eyes now, any love I feel for her on daily basis disappears.

That _woman._

I decide to take action.

"You have no right!" I mutter.

"You're right, I don't. What are you going to do about it?" she taunts.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" I erupt.

Nobody messes with my alcohol rations. But she dares. He does, sometimes too, but he's concerned. About my health and all that crap. I know she isn't. She does it to keep the flames alive in our relationship. I agree, we need the flames, because out of the flames come embers. Embers that keep our twisted love in shape. But my alcohol?

She, of all people, knows how it is. But she has him to keep her protected from the mutts, coming out of her dark subconscious to haunt her. When she screams, when her eyes fly open in sheer horror and fear, his arms are around her waist, his lips on her temple.

I know this because when I came back from my games and asked my girlfriend in marriage, we sneaked away at night to sleep in each others' arms. And when I woke up, she was there, her thin arms wrapped around my stiff body, her silver eyes gazing worriedly at my face. Tears would start soundlessly pouring down my cheeks. But she would smile a hurt smile and kiss me passionately. Of course, my body responded almost immediately.

But now, my only comfort, my love is gone. Gone, gone, _gone. _I never told her Snow commanded me to visit rich woman. Because, really, there was no point. I wasn't going to do it. I was very clear on that. I would never sleep in somebody else's bed than my lady's. But when he threatened her, I couldn't hide the truth.

When she knew, she didn't tear up as I expected her to. That's why I loved her so damn much; she never did what I expected her to do. She looked me right in my eyes and spoke these exact words:

'Bring it on, Snow! You will _never_ own him. He belongs to me and me only, the same way I belong to him. You disgust me. He's nineteen years old you perverted, twisted, sick person!'

Of course, she wasn't addressing me; she was addressing the microphones nested all over this fancy, Capitol made room. That occurs to me as we are rolling on the humongous bed, teeth banging into each other as we kiss ferociously. My hands crawl over her body, my lips seeking out every part of her. Everywhere her light fingers pass leaves a trail of fire on my skin. She knows it. Her silver eyes are playful as she dares me to go further. This is our first time.

The next morning, my eyes rest painfully on her tender neck, squeezed shut by the rope. A single tear escapes her left eye as she makes her way to the heavens. That tear is for me. For all the opportunities we missed. For never knowing what our children would look like.

She stops by my body. I can feel it. After last night, I know her better than anyone else. I know the way she feels, and I know her presence. And right now, she's with me. And all I can feel is this burning sensation I felt last night but in much, much softer. I am filled with so much love, it hurts. But when she leaves, bitterness fills me. Bitterness that will never leave, I know it.

All of this crosses my mind in less than two seconds. Two agonizing seconds during which, this pain in my ass responds.

"You won't kill me, Haymitch. Why would you have saved me in the first place? Two times," she reminds me.

"Well I shouldn't have!" I exclaim.

But there's no point fighting anymore. I just sigh in resignation. She must see the hurt in my eyes because her face softens in the slightest of ways.

"Okay, Haymitch, just ration the stuff. You know it screws with your body," she says, now genuinely concerned.

I huff. She knows me. She knows I won't do it. I can't. After years and years of trashing this wreck they call a body, I can't just stop. It's vital. Killing myself is vital. It has become part of me. Without it to keep the memories in my subconscious, I'm as good as crazy and suicidal.

"Haymitch, why don't you come over tonight? It's been awhile and Peeta is going to test a new bread recipe on me. That way, if it's bad, we'll be two to die," Katniss says.

She's making it into a joke, but no matter how well she make-ups it, I know it's a real invitation. How long haven't I eaten cooked food? Um… Since last time I went over to their place, as in two weeks ago. I'll never admit it to anyone but I quite enjoy eating at their place. It feels… good. Like a normal life. Like a life I should have lived if she was here with me.

She would have hated me drinking. She always despised people who drank. I guess that's why I started. So that she would come back to me and scold me. To defy her to come back.

So I accept. I do after some grunting as to not sound too desperate. Desperate for affection, joy, attention, laughter. Desperate for human presence. When I finally and fakely concede, Katniss smiles lightly. Something, I should know, she doesn't do often. But since not long ago, since she and Peeta are official, kinda, well she has been smiling more often.

I'm in front of my broken mirror. Some coal powder covers it. I shave sloppily. Wash my face. Mess my hair up with my hands so that it doesn't seem like I tried to look okay for the dinner. Suddenly, I feel empty. I'm sober which explains some of it. My shoulders sag a little. I look at myself like a stranger would do. Deep wrinkles on my forehead, bags under my eyes, a cut from shaving, my hair wild, my eyes washed out. I feel old and worn out. I am old and worn out.

I quickly throw on a clean green shirt and some black pants. I head out the door. I walk to their house, which is across the street. I knock. Katniss opens with a smile. From behind her comes a warm, yellow light. I take a seat on the couch, in front of the unlit fireplace. Katniss joins me and we hear Peeta saying he'll be there in a minute. This feels like home. I grunt as I let myself relax and enjoy the company of human beings that are able to tolerate me. Peeta comes and sits next to Katniss who cuddles up next to him. She'll never deserve him and he can do much better, but they actually fit together. They make each other smile.

The whole night is laughter and joy. This new recipe of Peeta's is actually really good. His cooking is as always excellent. And he made me visit his studio where, I can see his skills are improving. I had a glass of good wine which changes from the Spirit I usually get into my system. I tasted the wine. I didn't just gobble it down to get it into my bloodstream as fast as possible.

But when I get back into my empty home, I feel old and broken. I am in pieces, pieces that won't ever come together. I feel alone. I am alone.

**Yes, because I insist, if you read the book carefully, it says that Haymitch had a sweetheart back in the district that got killed. But I am not against you if you still want Maysilee and him to have some sort of romantic connection. Feel free to think up any story you want! **

**I still prefer the story of the killed girlfriend, because the star-crossed lovers thingy is kinda getting old. It sucks if you apply it to everyone that ever entered the arena. Haymitch and Maysilee were just partners, partners that developed a friendship, same as Katniss and Rue.**

**So I kinda did this quickly, I really hope you enjoyed it and if you can spare 5 minutes to write a review, that would really make my day. I'd like your thoughts on this hastily done one-shot (:**


	2. The Bump

That _woman__._

I guess I can forgive her this time. I mean, she is all hormonal. One minute she'll be screaming, the next, she'll be crying her eyes out. I even have to take her in my arms once in a while. Not that I mind. Now, I watch her hugging her husband. It's not really that much of a hug actually. More of an awkward embrace.

The bump is getting bigger. I can see the fear in those grey eyes. She comes over often. About once every two days. For her, I keep sober. Most of the time. Okay, maybe not that often. I try though.

I don't know why the hell she comes. When she does, she just stares around, in a daze, and lunges into my arms. She'll curl up on my lap and close her eyes, burying her face into my chest. She'll come out, sometime after, her grey eyes wide with fear.

I get it; I understand she needs some comfort outside of Peeta. I understand that when she is scared, she sees me as some kind of… Parent. I know I'll never replace her dad, but she needs the presence of someone older. Someone who's lived in this life for a while. Sometimes we talk. But never about the bump. Noooo, not about the bump. She'll freak at the only mention of it.

She just slapped me. Out of nowhere. She was buried in my chest again and when she came up she slapped me with the whole of her strength. Damn, that isn't nothing. And now she's crying her eyes out. Being around her can be very tiring. So I keep her with me longer than usual to give poor Peeta a break.

That bump, as it gets bigger, scares me. The concept of a new being coming to life makes me fidgety. The notion of being some kind of grandfather is foreign to me. It isn't healthy for a child to be around a drunk, sarcastic, dark person. Even I am conscious of it.

She looks like she's about to explode. It's scary. He is in a sickly excited mood. She is terrified. I stand by awkwardly, not knowing what to think. What should I think?

She stands in the meadow as the sun goes down. I see her profile. It started moving not long ago. The first time it did she screamed. Now she is calmer about it, but she still is really freaked out. The orange light touches her stomach in a way that it looks almost magical. As if the sun was trying to reassure her.

I see Peeta reach her and throw his arms around her distorted body. I leave the window as this is none of my business. I think about it. They didn't want to know the sex of the baby so the doctors didn't tell them. Will it be a girl? A boy? Considering it, I don't know which I would prefer.

It is two in the morning and a bloodcurdling scream fills the empty victor's village. I get up heavily and throw on a shirt. It's only when I splash cold water on my face that I realize how terrified I am. She is in labor and nothing assures me if the baby or the mother will be safe. You just hear too much stories on dead mothers giving birth or dead babies.

My heart thumps wildly. I'm in the waiting room of District 12's hospital. Only Peeta was allowed to go in as her husband. The pressure is so high I sob a little. I'm even more concerned than on the train, before my Games. My stomach is in a wild knot and aches so much I could scream. The only way I get through this is clenching my teeth and thinking. Of anything really.

There she is. This beautiful little baby girl, staring at me with wide eyes. Blue eyes. I sigh. A tuft of ink black hair grows on her minuscule head. She is so cute I could die. I can't believe it but I cry. It's more like grunts and wetness coming out of my eyes. It's been so long that I think I forgot how to cry.

The last time I cried, well, I don't want to remember it. But my tears, now, are for beauty. It feels human to cry. I didn't think I was human since I killed. It feels good.

**Sooo? Waddya think? I decided this story is going to have three pieces to it. Before the kids. During The pregnancy. With the kids. So one more to go! Well, we explored a human Haymitch this time.**

**Don't you just love him? I know I sure do. **

**So review to let him know he is loved! :D.**


	3. Changed

I wake up in a miserable state. I shouldn't have been drinking yesterday. Especially when I'm taking the kids out around town today. But I had a weak will not to. Which results in a throbbing headache and spinning vision this morning.

I splash some ice-cold water on my face. It drips down my chin and slides on my chest leaving goose bumps trailing behind. I should probably take a shower. I smell like lion. And it will help with the throbbing.

I turn the pressure on to maximum. The water burns my skin and beats on my shoulders. I just stand there for a couple minutes and finally dump some shampoo on my head. I haven't used shampoo for a long time and forgot the sting. I close my eyes to keep the shampoo from stinging them. I watch as the foam goes down the drain in a swirl.

I turn my head up exposing my face to the steady stream of boiling water. I don't cringe though. I just let it cut me from the world. My hearing becomes faded, my face numb. I don't allow myself to think. I just be. I empty everything inside of me, making it go down the drain and join the foam. I feel disconnected from my body. My body is empty.

A timid knock on the bathroom wakes me from this mindlessly sweet sleep. No haunting, just an empty body resting physically. I quickly turn off the tap and wrap a towel around my waist. I crack open the door and as I find nobody at my level, look down. Her electric blue eyes are almost violet. They're wide and her coal black hair flows down her shoulders. She's gonna be one heartbreaker.

"You promised you would take us to town and to the square to play, grandpa Mitchy," she says innocently. I'm pretty sure she knows I hate that nickname. I'll never tell but each time she uses it, my heart warms up and threatens to pop.

"Of course!" I can't help but smile at her cute face, "I'll be right there, you can go pet the geese while I finish getting ready, Okay?"

She quickly nods and a small smile plays on the corner of her lips as I evoke the geese. She loves animals and plants, well; she loves every living thing more precisely. My heart squeezes; reminds me of Prim as she scrambles down the stairs to go to her little brother.

Sweet, loving Prim. My eyes brim over with tears as my mind makes the list of dead friends scroll in my head. My Nesha, sweet Prim, teasing Finnick, kind Cecilia, brotherly Chaff, gentle Seeder and—and I don't want to think about it.

I rub my towel against my wet hair which results in a big hair mess. Pull on some decent clothes. My head and vision feels much better now. I take some money to treat the kids to a drink and some candy. It's incredible how they can affect me. In the good way.

I come down the stairs and catch a glimpse out the window. The kids are playing with my flock of geese.

I'm happy Katniss convinced me to let Hazelle come and clean my house every week. Her pressure point was very effective: she wouldn't allow the kids to come over to my place if it stayed in the same lamentable state. So what other choice did I have than to comply?

I go out in the garden that Hazelle also keeps presentable and livable for the geese. When he sees me, Paskka cries out to me, "Gwandpa MitchyNathy!" For those who wonder Mitchy is for Haymitch and Nathy Abernathy. See what I have to tolerate? I chuckle and lift him in my arms swinging him in a circle around me. Yeah, I know. I don't recognize myself either.

When I put him down pain shoots up my back. Darn it. Ruth told me to tone down the lifting without warming up before. I'll have to listen to her; Katniss's mother is the best healer in Panem. But the kid loves it. What can I do? I'm their servant, their Gwandpa. I smile to myself. These kids make me better. They plant seeds to wonderful bright and blooming sunflowers in my heart.

I take Violett by the hand and rest my heavy hand on Paskka's head.

Violett could act all superior and disdainful, because of her family name and her beauty. You see, if your name is Violett Mellark, respect comes from everywhere. On top of that she's breathtakingly beautiful. But thankfully, Katniss doesn't take any superiority from anyone, especially her kids. She taught Violett to be humble and thankful for what she has. Violett is a smart girl; she guessed that life wasn't paradise for her parents as it is for her now. She would make any mother proud.

Paskka is more of a mischievous one. He's a little clumsy though. Well, he is only three years old. Half as much as Violett. As much as Violett is sweet and reserved, he is fun and outgoing. His blond hair and grey eyes make everybody 'Aw' in delight which highly aggravates him. Yes, he does love annoying my geese by running after them and chucking gravel their way, but Violett is always close by to stop him from doing stupid things. He loves his sister very much and only a glance from her can make him stop.

They both walk with their backs straight and are polite—though Paskka slips a little on polite forms of speech— they eat with their mouth closed and they, well to my eyes, they're pretty much perfect, although they really aren't.

We walk through the roads from the victor's village to the town square. We pass in front of the textile store where Violett carefully studies the different colors of the ribbons. I tell her if she picks one I will buy it for her. She considers this and smiles. We enter the store where Grenda, the shopkeeper's wife greets us.

"What do you think of this one?" she picks out a green one.

"Well, I think this color would go better, as it matches your eyes," I tell her, picking up a bluish-purplish one.

"Definitely that one!" Paskka says.

"Okay then, I guess I'll take this one," she passes repeatedly her finger on the smooth band of cloth.

I pay Grenda while Violett expertly attaches her hair in a ponytail with her new ribbon. She beams as I tell her it matches her eyes perfectly. As we go out and walk the streets a little more her, head is high and she glows.

We then pass the candy shop. I know none of them expects it as when I enter the shop, shock registers on their faces quickly replaced by excited giggles. Even now, when nobody is really poor thanks to president Paylor's new thing of giving a monthly sum of money to families in need or with numerous children, parents don't have much left to buy things like candy, though they treat their kids to it once in a while.

Even if Peeta and Katniss are rich, candy isn't routine for Violett and Paskka. They get a piece or two for their birthdays and for holidays, but never ordinarily. Except when I'm involved.

"Okay, three pieces each!" I say, motioning with my hands the glass boxes containing each a special kind of candy.

Larris, the shopkeeper shows them the new arrivals straight from the Capitol. He explains which ones have which flavor and textures.

Finally, Paskka gets a big colorful lollipop, a small bottle of strawberry flavored sizzles and a pack of chocolate covered fruit.

Violett takes a little longer to decide but stays with a Shilvick, peach flavored thick candy stick in which there is a sweet liquid, a honey stick, and this new thing called a chewing-gum with a mint flavor.

We then head to the park where we sit on a bench talking about school and friends and the upcoming Harvest festival. They then play in the grass with some other kids around. After three hours in the square –you wouldn't imagine how time passes quickly—Peeta comes back from his bakery shift and comes to get the kids.

"Are you coming back with us?" he asks when I don't move from the bench.

"Naw, I gotta swing by the Hob," I say.

He frowns slightly at this but nods slowly before turning back.

"Use the candy wisely!" I call after them. I know it's useless because the candy will be guarded safely and economized and they'll likely finish it in more than a week.

Since the bombing and Paylor's installment as president, the Hob was reconstructed and is now some sort of semi-official market. It's just a place where you can get everything there is in town at a cheaper price and the building is now in the health norms. That way, you can often see some people from town shop there when they don't worry too much about reputation and need to cut down on costs. But that still rarely happens.

I go over there and get three bottles of liquor. Maybe I'll allow myself to a bottle tonight, or two.

Back home I settle in my room upstairs with my three bottles in hand. Looking out the window, I see Katniss tucking Paskka into bed, then Violett. Peeta comes in to give them a goodnight kiss. Sometimes, when I come over to eat, once a week, I get to kiss them goodnight too. But here I am, in my empty house, preparing three bottles of liquor for myself. I sigh.

I sleep, for real. With dreams and all that crap. I dream happy dreams, dreams with laughter, joy and people I love most are all there. We are around a table sipping wine and eating wild duck and honey sauce and bread. Where Prim plays with Paskka, Violett and Finnick and Annie's son, Finnick is with Annie and Chaff making jokes at his expense, Peeta and Katniss laughing along, Johanna snickering at everything. She is with me also. And that is the sweetest part. But above all, Paskka and Violett are there. And I realize they are the only thing, or almost, that is real in my dream.

The bottles of liquor sleep in the highest shelf of the kitchen, unopened, unwanted. Because tonight, I have Violett and Paskka with me, willing me on as the old alcoholic I am. They make me better.

Yes, with them, I am changed.

**Okay, last chapter too this fic, sorry. You have to know when to stop things, and I decide to stop here. Before during and after. Our fav' alcoholic's point of view :D.**

**So here, I just wanted to show how Haymitch loves his 'Grandchildren' so. I know this is so very OOC but, yeah, I just thought he had to have some kind of sweet part to him.**

**So, for the kids' names, don't kill me! It was kind of a hard choice, believe me. It had to be something K&P would name their children, and something cute. So Violett as a flower (I added a 't' for coolness) and Paskka is a kind of bread. I know, it's lame. But, it was hard to chose, so yeah, forgive me on that. (:**

**I also know I may have done them a little too perfect… Now you can kill me (seriously, don't).**

**Also, I want to add that the 'Shilvick' does not exist, pure invention (x. It sounds pretty good to me though xP.**

**Anyways, I just worked hard for you, so maybe you can give me the same with a tiny little huge review ^^.**


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